


Breaking Point

by CSIGurlie07



Category: NCIS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-31
Updated: 2012-05-31
Packaged: 2017-11-06 08:56:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/417065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CSIGurlie07/pseuds/CSIGurlie07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Memories can be good. They can be bad. The bad ones leave scars, leave a person disfigured for life. What happens when one of Ziva's scars is exposed when the elevator finally breaks down? One-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking Point

"Agent David," Gibbs barked, marching purposefully into the squad room, "gear up. You're with me." At this, Dinozzo looked up in confusion.

"What about us, boss?" His tone was plaintive, toeing his customary line between whiny and insulted.

"McGee is going to go through the Commander's emails, and you are chasing phone records. See if he had any kind of contact with the victim after she dumped him." A small pout crossed Tony's features, but Gibbs' orders were indisputable.

"On it, boss." His eyes flicked between Ziva and the team leader. "Where are you guys going?"

"Victim's sister is back in town, and we're gonna pay her a little visit." Gibbs reached into his desk drawer to retrieve his sidepiece, but he didn't miss the smirk that Ziva sent Dinozzo's way. Smug and clearly triumphant, it was an exchange that had been an everyday occurrence before Michael Rivkin had come to town, but had become a rare treasure after Ziva's rescue. As such, Gibbs was willing to let it slide, where before he might have given her a tap to the back of her head. He straightened, ready to leave for the interview.

"Let's go."

Ziva followed him towards the elevator, go-bag slung casually over her shoulder. They wordlessly entered the elevator when it arrived, allowing a comfortable silence to fill the car as the doors closed. Gibbs snuck a glance towards Ziva to see her standing relaxed beside him, her eyes slightly unfocused. He had noticed it happening a lot lately, and he knew that she was slightly dissociated, and wrapped up in her own thoughts. It didn't bother him, as she was able to snap out of it at a moment's notice when necessary.

Gibbs intuition was proven dead-on when her head jerked up as the car shuddered to a stop, and they were thrown into darkness. He heard Ziva shift beside him as she glanced towards him.

"Did you do that?" she asked.

"Nope."

"Great." She sighed. "I cannot say this is unexpected. I am actually a little surprised it took so long for this thing to break down." She faced him. "This is your fault."

" _My_ fault?" He turned to face her, an eyebrow arching in good natured disbelief.

"Mmhmm." She crossed her arms. "You have treated the elevator as an office one too many times, it seems."

"Uh huh." Gibbs found he couldn't dispute her claim. In fact, he had been half-expecting it himself. He leaned back against the side of the elevator. "Might as well make yourself comfortable. We could be here a while."

"Should we not notify someone about where we are?"

"Elevator phone has been broken for years, and there's no cell service in this tin can." He crossed hims arms casually over his chest. "It'll be a while for them to realize it's broken, and even longer before they get this bucket of bolts fixed." Ziva glared at him for a minute, before giving a sigh as she let her bag fall to the floor of the elevator.

"Fine." She mirrored his position, leaning against the opposite wall to face him. Nothing else was said, and they stood in silence for several minutes. After a while, Ziva began to fidget. Her arms uncrossed, coming to rest on the handrail behind her. She seemed content with that for a few minutes more, but then her fingers began to tap, her nails drumming out a sharp tattoo against the metal.

When the staccato didn't end after a few moments, Gibbs tried to pin her with a glare, but it went unnoticed as Ziva focused on the tops of her boots. He cleared his throat, which caught her attention. The tapping stopped, and her arms came up to cross in front of her once more. Her foot took up the beat, but as her boot made little noise against the carpeted floor, Gibbs let it go.

As the minutes ticked by, Gibbs watched Ziva grow more and more agitated. The rapping of her foot became rapid, and soon even that wasn't enough to alleviate the tension. She pushed away from the wall, and moved to the back of the elevator car. She tried to settle there, but in a few heartbeats she moved back. Gibbs heard her breathing grow heavy, though he could tell that she was deliberately trying to keep each inhale deep and even. Soon, instead of trying to ignore her harried movements, Gibbs became entirely focused on her as she began to pace the short length of the elevator.

"Ziva—"

"They should have fixed it by now," she interrupted, pushing her long hair away from her face in frustration.

"Ziva—"

"Why is it so hot in here?" she asked, wiping her brow with the heel of her hand. Gibbs heard her breathing become ragged. "I need—I have to get out of here." Concern flooded Gibbs when he saw her eyes begin to dart about wildly.

"Ziva—" Her brow furrowed, and her hands came up to press against her temples. Recognition hit Gibbs like a freight train—he had seen this when he was in the Corps, in the desert, when one of his men had flipped out at the sound of a distant IED. She was having a flashback, and it was sending her dangerously close to a panic attack. "Ziva, look at me."

"No…" It took Gibbs a moment to realize she was not talking to him. "No. Not again." Her breathing became strained and uneven as Ziva turned and pressed her hands against the doors. "Please, please."

"Ziva!" Gibbs pulled her away from the doors forcefully and turned her to face him. "Ziva, focus." He waited until her eyes trained on him. They were wide with fear, but Gibbs saw the spark of recognition. Her breaths were still ragged, and he knew he still had to pull her back. "Ziva, listen to me. Wherever you are right now, it's not real. It's a memory." Her eyes began darting away from him again, and she began to pull away from him.

"Nononono…" Her voice was small, frail as she pleaded with whatever, or whoever was assaulting her.

" Ziva, you are in the elevator at NCIS. You are safe." He ran his hands up and down her arms soothingly. "It's okay. I'm with you. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

"No," she told him, shaking her head. "The walls—I cannot breathe…"

"The walls are _not_ moving. They are not closing in. Ziva, you are panicking. You need to slow your breathing down." Gibbs reached up to brush his hand over her hair. This seemed to catch her attention, and she stilled under his ministrations. "Just take a deep breath. Feel your feet on the ground. You are safe. Nothing is going to happen to you." He continued to murmur reassurances to her, and slowly she came back to him. After several long moments, she looked up at him with teary eyes.

"Gibbs?" Her voice was thick with emotion. He met her gaze, and without another word she melted into him. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to his chest. She clutched his shirt, burying her face into the fabric. It quickly became damp with her silent tears, and Gibbs felt her trembling against him.

"It's going to be okay," he reassured her.

"I cannot stay in here," she whispered to him.

"Ziva, talk to me," he pleaded. "I need to know, so I can help you. Why can't you stay in the elevator? You were never claustrophobic before—" He paused when she tensed in his arms. "Can you tell me what happened?" She shook her head. Gibbs sighed. "Ziva, I want to help you, but you have to tell me what happened just now." He pressed a kiss to her hair. "Please let me help you."

Ziva didn't respond, but Gibbs didn't press any further. He simply kept her close, offering the support that she clearly needed from him. Silence permeated the elevator, and Gibbs focused to trying to get Ziva to relax. He was mildly surprised when the soft sound of her voice drifted up to him.

"Saleem moved camp," she whispered. Gibbs waited, but when she didn't continue, he decided to fill the silence.

"I know," he admitted. "I managed to track him that far. That's where I lost his trail." He tried to keep the bitterness from his voice, but Ziva didn't seem to notice either way. Gibbs' brow furrowed as realization filled him. "Chad had reports that they had a female prisoner… That was you." Ziva nodded once against him.

"They took me with them," she whispered. "I didn't know where they were taking me." She paused, and Gibbs waited patiently. "I—" Her voice broke. She tried again. "I woke up in transit. I was in a wooden shipping crate." Her grip on his shirt tightened, but she continued on. "My hands were bound in front of me… I could not move. I tried to push the top of the box, but my legs… they were too close to my chest, and my hands were trapped. It was too small, too tight. I could barely breathe." When she paused again, Gibbs tightened his grip on her, letting her know that he was still listening. Ziva took a few steadying breaths, and while they didn't do much to calm her trembling, it was enough for her to keep going.

"It was so dark," she said, her voice soft. "So hot. I think I passed out, multiple times. I do not know how long I was in the crate. It felt like years…" She shook her head slightly. "I thought it was over. I didn't think the elevator would bother me. And it does not, not for short rides. But I cannot stay in here, Gibbs. Not after…" She took a deep breath. "I close my eyes, and the walls are coming closer, and then I am back in that box and I cannot move, or breathe…" A small sob escaped her. "Please, Gibbs…"

Her voice was so small, so frail, that she seemed little more than a frightened child. Gibbs held her close, rubbing his hands in light circles on her back. He murmured softly to her, offering what little comfort he could give in the face of such a harrowing memory. It was a wonder that she managed to even make it through the short ride from the squad room to the parking deck, or to Abby's lab. He let his thoughts wander, straying from guilt for not being there to protect her, to pity for what she was experiencing now, and then to hatred for the man who inflicted this pain upon her—Saleem. When his murmurs unconcisously trailed off, she protested softly.

"Please," she said, "I need to hear you. I can feel your words rumble in your chest." She gave a short breath of laughter at her foolishness. "It is comforting," she explained. Gibbs grinned, obliging her request by humming softly. The tune came naturally, and it took him a moment to recognize it as a lullaby he used to sing to Kelly when she had woken from a bed dream.

_When the rain is blowing in your face  
And the whole world is on your case_

Slowly, the words came back to him, and he gave voice to them as he sang them quietly. It had been years since he had sung anything, let alone a lullaby, and his voice was little more than a whispering grumble, but Ziva didn't say anything against it.

_I would offer you a warm embrace  
To make you feel my love _

He slowly began to rock them back and forth gently. The movement was small, just enough to keep time and soothe Ziva's nerves.

_When the evening shadows and the stars appear  
And there is no one to dry your tears  
I could hold you for a million years  
To make you feel my love _

Little by little, Ziva relaxed against him, until all of the tension had left her body. Her breathing became even and steady, and Gibbs could feel the heat of each exhale through the fabric of his dampened polo. He welcomed the sensation, but knew better than to think the episode had passed completely.

_I know you haven't made your mind up yet  
But I would never do you wrong  
I've known it from the moment that we met  
No doubt in my mind where you belong_

Ziva's hands released their grip on his shirt, and her arms circled around him, returning his embrace. Her head turned so that her cheek rested on his chest, and soon they were dancing, delicately shifting their weight from foot to foot in time with the tune.

_I'd go hungry, I'd go black and blue  
I'd go crawling down the avenue  
No there's nothing that I wouldn't do  
To make you feel my love _

As the words passed Gibbs' lips, he realized how much truth they held, even for their less than conventional relationship, and the bizarre and traumatic experiences that seemed to greet them at every turn. He gained confidence as the realization struck him, and while he kept the volume low in the metal confines of the elevator car, his voice became stronger, more tangible.

_The storms are raging on a rolling sea  
And on the highway of regret  
The winds of change are blowing wild and free  
You ain't seen nothing like me yet _

When a lighter voice joined his in wordless harmony, Gibbs was taken by surprise. His voice caught between verses, but when Ziva continued to follow the simple melody with crystalline pitch, Gibbs quickly recovered. They sang together, voices merging in easy comfort.

_I could make you happy, make your dreams come true_

_Nothing that I wouldn't do_

_Go to the ends of the earth for you  
To make you feel my love._

Gibbs fell silent as he ran out of words. He pulled back slightly, reaching up to stroke Ziva's hair away from her face. She lifted her head and turned her face up to gaze at him. They shared a long gaze, its intensity broken only when a small smile creased Ziva's features.

"Thank you, Jethro," she said, her honesty stark in her clear eyes. She took a step back, the moment gone, tucking a lock of hair behind her ears. She cleared her throat. "I am glad you were the one in here with me when that happened. I could only imagine what would have happened had it been tony or McGee."

Gibbs scoffed, allowing the moment to fade. He wanted her to be comfortable, and if it meant changing the subject, or mentioning the others, he'd go along with it.

"McGee would have panicked himself, or been terrified of what I may do to him if he came close while I was like that. And Tony would have had field day. I would never have lived it down." She looked at him, and Gibbs guessed her question before she voiced it.

"You don't ever have to worry about that, Ziva," he said decisively. "What happens between us, stays between us, you know that." He took a step toward her. "And if something like that happens when I'm not around, and Dinozzo tries to give you flack about it, you tell me. I'll set him straight so fast he won't know what hit him." He paused. "But I don't think you're giving him enough credit. He'd know better than that. He does care about you, Ziver. In fact, I think I may have to do something to curb his affections towards you. He might get it into his head that you're not spoken for now that Rivkin is out of the picture."

Gibbs had avoided mentioning Michael Rivkin in the weeks following Ziva's return to NCIS, but when he had quite obviously backtracked one afternoon, she had put a stop to the avoidance. She had told him that Michael now fell under the same category as Ari—he had become someone she didn't recognize, but they had shared too much in the past, in their childhood, to try to forget him entirely. Her comfort with the mention of Rivkin's name was evident when she smiled wryly.

"I know he is not really as insensitive as he pretends to be," she conceded. "But I am still glad it was you." Gibbs was just opening his mouth to reply when the elevator lights came on and the car whirred into motion. Ziva heaved a sigh of relief as she scrambled to collect her bag and turn to wait expectantly for the doors to open. Gibbs stood at her side, waiting next to her. The car was returning to its starting point, and just before the doors opened back onto the squad bay, Gibbs gave Ziva's hand a gentle squeeze. She shot him a quick smile in return, but they broke the contact when the doors slid open.

Ziva wasted no time in darting from the confines of the elevator, but she halted once she was in the open air of the squad room. She maintained her composure and turned to watch Gibbs exit the elevator at a more leisurely pace. It gave Tony enough time to notice their presence.

"That was quick boss," he remarked loudly over the low din of the busy quad room. "Change your mind on who to take with you?"

"Get back to work Dinozzo," Gibbs ordered. "We're not back—we never left."

"Elevator broke down, eh? Had to have seen that one coming!"

Gibbs silently debated the satisfaction of walking over to give the senior field agent a well-deserved smack against his desire to get Ziva out of the building. Concern for Ziva won out, and he decided to ignore the exuberant Italian. He crooked a finger at Ziva, and she crossed to him obediently.

"We are still going to the sister, yes?" she asked, also choosing to ignore her partner. Gibbs nodded.

"We're taking the stairs this time."

* * *

A/N: This popped into my head when I was revising my other most recent fic. It came about when I considered the fact that the writers may not fully explore the damage Ziva most certainly sustained in Somalia. This is just in case they try to bury it all under the rug. It may be a tad OOC, but it works for me.

The song is a lullaby I found on a CD. I dunno who sang it first, but a bunch of people have sung it over the years. It is entitled "To Make You Feel My Love"... I did not write it, obviously. Just for the record. Disclaimers and all that.

I'm trying to write a tag to "Outlaws and In-Laws" to post soon. Too many new possibilities to NOT take advantage. For those of you who have not seen it yet, when you DO watch it, keep your eyes peeled for the awesomest cameo in all of NCIS history... It was so awesome. XD


End file.
